A/N: Hello! All right, so there's been a lot of guesses as to who the mysterious stranger is- don't worry! It will begin to be revealed in this chapter! Maybe. Possibly. Well, it will be discussed anyways. Point is, I won't leave you hanging in the lurch too much longer! And remember, not everything is as it seems!
Disclaimer: If anyone is up to selling any sort of Superman or Lois and Clark rights, send them to me. I'm willing to buy them. Seriously. :)
Lois awoke the next morning in her bed. She stood up, stretched, and walked into the bathroom.
Then she screamed.
Clark was there in less than an instant, frantically scanning for her. "Lois? What's wrong? What happened?" He found her standing frozen, rooted to the spot in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. He sighed. "Lois don't scare me like that- I thought you were in serious trouble or something like usual, but. . ." his voice trailed off as he finally noticed what it was that had scared her, and he felt his own pulse spike with the fear.
On a small piece of paper, taped to the mirror, was a note.
"I know who you are."
Then underneath it was the Superman "s" insignia. The El family crest, drawn to a tee.
Lois looked up suspiciously at her partner. "Is this some sort of joke?"
Thrown off by the shift in both her tone and topic, all Clark could manage was a small "Huh?" He was beginning to notice the nightgown she was wearing, and it wasn't at all helping to focus his attention on the matter at hand.
"Why would you do this to me? So you could come in and rescue me or something? Look like the good guy?"
That got his attention. "Lois, what are you talking about? I didn't write that note, and I didn't put it in your bathroom in the middle of the night."
"Then how do you explain the fact that it's your handwriting on the note?"
"Lois, that's not my handwriting. . . I don't think. It looks similar, yeah. . . but I mean. . . it can't really be my handwriting. I didn't write it." Clark walked forward and plucked it off of the reflective surface, turning it over in his hands with a perplexed look.
"I don't understand, Clark. How could someone even get into my room in the middle of the night and plant something like that without my knowledge, or hearing and waking up- or without even you noticing?"
"Whoever it is, he obviously should have been more careful. If he really knew who it was he was dealing with, then I'm sure he wouldn't have left that note. I mean, he's calling Superman's bluff. I'm not exactly the best person to be picking on."
"Clark," Lois took on a chiding tone. "Let's be rational here for a moment. How would you not hear that someone's coming into my room in the middle of the night? You're right next door, not to mention you have your other talents."
Clark froze, the possibilities striking him. "It could have been some sort of kryptonite."
"True," Lois commented, "But I think you would have noticed something like that."
Clark nodded his head in response. He should have recognized something was wrong. Anything was wrong. He always kept an ear out for Lois- whether awake or asleep, next door or out of the country. This was beginning to disturb him. "Lois, the truth of it is that it's not possible. I'm always looking out for you. I didn't even get up to go on a rescue last night since we parted ways. No one should have been able to get past me."
"Luthor maybe?"
He shook his head. "Even if he were here, or there was an alternate version of himself here, he wouldn't be able to sneak past. Not unless he could. . . I don't know. . . teleport or something. But there's no other way."
"Well, he did manage to send us here, now didn't he? How do we know that he couldn't teleport or something? It wouldn't be the craziest thing that's ever happened to us."
"No, I still think I would have heard or noticed something."
"Well, what other ways could someone get past you? I mean, you would have to be as sneaky as you are to get past yourself."
Suddenly something clicked with Clark, and he felt his eyes go wide with the realization.
"What?" Lois asked, impatient.
Clark swallowed before speaking. "It's my handwriting."
"You just said it wasn't."
"It's a little different, it seems, but it's my basic handwriting. And you said so yourself- the only way someone could get past me is if they were me, or at least had my powers."
It dawned on Lois what he was saying. "Superman," she whispered. "You mean he is here? I mean, it would explain a whole lot- he could get in at superspeeds, wouldn't make any noise with footsteps, be done within seconds- and he would have your handwriting."
"That's not all. Remember how I said I've felt watched the past few days?"
Her eyes widened. "Superman's been watching you," she breathed. She found it easier to reference this other Clark just as Superman, all things considered. It was weird to think otherwise. "Possibly both of us. Ha- when I said it could have been you I didn't think of it literally. It was a joke. Serves me right for poking fun at the universe."
Clark's worried glance showed her that wasn't all.
"Lois," he began slowly, unsurely. "This world has no Superman. None that they know of, anyways. Whoever he is, he is not Superman. He's not saving the world, and if he is Clark Kent, he doesn't exist as such- if he did, I'm sure he would be swarmed with people- I mean, everyone here knows that Clark Kent is Superman. They'd have to have gotten the idea from somewhere- and there was the kryptonite to consider. Maybe he decided it was too dangerous- frankly, I have no idea what would cause me- him- to avoid helping the world. I always thought I was stronger than my fears."
A frown of concern occupied Lois's visage, and she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You are, Clark. It's just that. . . obviously, this isn't you." She paused a moment, struggling with her thoughts. "But I do think that. . . that of all times, now is the time to go public."
Clark's gaze darted up suddenly to meet hers. "You mean, reveal myself? Both of me?"
She slipped her hand into his loose grip. "Both of us, Clark. We don't want this. . . other guy to decide now's the time to mess up Superman's name. If we want help, if we ever want to get out of here, or even if we want to just live here, we're going to have to act fast."
Clark sighed, nodding slowly as the reality of it sunk in. The show was over. "How do you think we should do it?"
"Press conference," she stated almost automatically. "The same way we do it back home. We'll do it this evening. Have Snyder and everyone else help spread the news."
He shut his eyes lightly. This was it. He knew it would be coming soon anyways- even if they had managed to find a way back home, which they hadn't yet, they'd have to hold a conference to explain the situation, so that it didn't seem that Superman had just abandoned them- again. He needed to do this, to prove his innocence, to look his alternate self in the eye and show him he wasn't scared. If he knew who he was, then so would the rest of the world. Clark wouldn't allow himself to be blackmailed into silence. . . by himself.
A/N: I know, I know. It's short. But the next chapter's going to be relatively long, and remember: not everything is always as it seems! Read and Review, please! Don't make me beg!
